


detours

by Unforgotten



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Car Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforgotten/pseuds/Unforgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's raining, it's pouring, and Charles and Erik might just be a tiny bit lost, so they pull off the road to wait for the rain to die down. While they're there, they may as well entertain themselves somehow...</p>
            </blockquote>





	detours

It's raining in sheets, a dull roar beating down on the roof of the car. Water sloughs off the windshield with every pass of the wipers, but even on their fastest setting, they're not doing Erik any good. He can barely see enough to be certain they're still on the road-- _a_ road--they've probably missed their turn--and even if they haven't yet, they will if the rain doesn't let up by the time they reach it.

If Erik were traveling alone, he'd have pulled off the road by now. He should do it anyway. He's opened his mouth three times in the last five minutes to tell Charles he's going to, only to close it again without saying anything. He's not sure what the problem is; he just can't do it.

Erik opens his mouth for the fourth time, then closes it. He sneaks a glance at Charles to see if he noticed, catches Charles eying him, and snaps his attention back to the road he can still barely make out.

"You know, we might want to pull over for a bit," Charles says in a raised voice, just loud enough to be heard over the rain. "Wait out the rain, you know. I can't see anything. And I think we've missed our turn."

"If it makes you feel better," Erik shouts back, at once appreciative of the fiction and resentful of the need for it.

Erik guides the car onto the shoulder, shifts into park, turns off the wipers. It's a little quieter in the car now that they're not moving. For the first time, Erik registers how dark it is outside: it's barely two in the afternoon, but the sky is easily dark enough to pass for dusk.

They've been stopped for about twenty seconds when Charles says, still shouting, "Well, this is boring."

"It was your idea," Erik says.

Charles reaches over and squeezes Erik's upper thigh, hard, sending a jolt of arousal through his groin. "Well, I have a better one, if you want to hear it."

Then, because Charles is nothing if not direct, he slides his hand up even farther, gives Erik's crotch a squeeze, then starts stroking him through the fabric of his trousers.

"We're on the side of the road. Anyone could see," Erik says, but both of them know it's a token protest. No one's coming. They haven't passed another car in at least half an hour, and there are none anywhere within Erik's range--and even if there were, they'd be unlikely to even notice the car with its lights off on the side of the road, much less what's going on inside it.

Charles doesn't answer, instead opening Erik's trousers and pulling out his cock. Erik's already half-hard, and Charles knows just how he likes to be touched. It only takes a minute for Erik to grow fully erect in Charles' grip.

Erik expects a handjob, but then Charles leans way, way over, and obviously this is going to be something else altogether.

Charles fidgets for a minute, then grabs Erik's cock by the base and guides it to his lips. Erik feels one, two huffs of Charles' warm breath against the tip, and then Charles takes him in, his mouth warm and wet and perfect.

Erik wants to thrust into that heat, but Charles' weight on his lap is holding him down. There's no room for it anyway; he'd just end up slamming Charles into the steering wheel if he did.

Usually, when Charles gets Erik pinned down like this, he takes advantage of it, teasing Erik to the edge and then backing him down, over and over again, until Erik is swearing at him, threatening him, "Let me come or I swear I'll--", but this time he doesn't. This time, he sucks Erik's cock in a slow, steady, unvarying rhythm, designed to make things last, to make Erik's orgasm build up slowly, so slowly, an impossibility that grows and grows until it's a foregone conclusion.

Once he figures out what this is going to be, Erik tries to relax, leans back against the headrest, closes his eyes. He reaches down to stroke Charles' hair, his back. The rain is still pounding on the roof of the car, loud enough to drown out the other sounds that usually come hand-in-hand with this, the sounds that do almost as much for Erik as Charles' mouth does.

Sex isn't usually a comforting act for Erik, but it is this time, cocooned in metal and darkness and rain, Charles heavy and warm on top of his legs. Instead of tensing as his arousal builds, he feels himself going limp and pliant, almost sleepy.

After a few minutes, the rain begins to ebb, until it's a light patter, over which Erik can now hear the wet, sloppy sounds of the blowjob, his own hitched breathing going in time with Charles' mouth. He opens his eyes and sees the back of Charles' head bobbing up and down. He looks sideways and sees Charles' elbow moving back and forth, rubbing himself off in the same rhythm that he's sucking Erik.

Erik lasts another thirty seconds or so before he comes, pulsing heat into Charles' mouth, Charles swallowing around him. When Charles pulls off, a thin thread of saliva and semen follows him for a long moment before it breaks.

Erik stretches his legs out as far as they'll go, slumps back in his seat as he tries to catch his breath. He sees Charles wipe his mouth on the back of his hand, watches as Charles unzips his trousers and pulls out his own cock, red and flushed and fully erect just from fondling himself as he sucked Erik. He watches for another minute as Charles strokes himself lazily, in a way that's obviously meant to be a show, or a suggestion--but Charles is nothing if not direct, and if it were meant as a suggestion, he would have grabbed Erik's hand and moved it there already. Erik feels free to watch as Charles's hand moves faster and faster, the tip of his cock appearing and disappearing in his fist. It's mesmerizing, up to and including when Charles' cock suddenly spasms and he comes all over his shirt in two or three long spurts.

By the time Charles manages to change his shirt, an operation that involves much twisting around and swearing on his part to get to his bag in the backseat without having to leave the car, the rain has slowed to a drizzle. As Erik turns the windshield wipers and the headlights back on and pulls back out onto the road, Charles pulls the map out of the glove box.

As it turns out, they're not on the road they thought they were on, they're not on the road they were supposed to turn onto, and they have no idea where the hell they actually are, other than that they're probably still in Iowa. It takes them the better part of three hours to work it out, but eventually they do.

That kind of thing would usually put Erik in a very foul mood, but somehow he can't bring himself to mind the detour, just this once.


End file.
